How to Clean Up After a Party

Almost 50 people came to celebrate a seven year old and an eleven year old.  50+our family of 8=a house bursting at the seams with love, laughter and friendship.  Big boys handpicked gifts for little boys and mommas of boys gladly picked out girl clothes.  My camera sat on the shelf and I didn't touch it once.  There is no way I could have captured the blessed chaos; children would have been a blur and beautiful friends would have dodged the lens.  They don't see what I see...so I was content (for now) to capture them in my minds eye and pray their image is burned into my mind like their souls has been burned into mine.  They are no ordinary women.

::her beautiful salt and pepper hair
::her reserved laugh
::her taking it all in and pondering it very deeply

There are ten years at the most that separate us in physical age and I could not even begin to count what brings us together spiritually.  We share thirty three children between us from barely a few months old to grown with two grand babies.  We home school, we send them to the best alternative, we worry if either one is enough.  We reassure each other that it is...because we are enough.

::her gregarious laugh
::tall and red making her stand out even when she doesn't want to
::her easy, laid back manner

We know some of each other's story, the parts that were already written before we became the family our Lord created us to be.  Two of them have known each other since high school and two of us have known each other since she slipped into this world.  We admonish, exhort, encourage and sometimes we even use words.

::her quick wit
::her quest for knowledge and truth
::her integrity as she strives and tries and fights for what is right, now

We have held the new babies in our arms; the culmination of our prayers made flesh.  We have prayed for their conception, their time spent wrapped in the warmth of mothers flesh and blood, their entrance into the church and their souls as they grow into the world.  We listen, give advice, counsel, show the other side of the coin, and well up with tears at milestones.  We pray, sometimes by name, sometimes just including the whole lot, because He hears and knows them all.

::her strength
::her no nonsense attitude
::her humor

A hug, an email, a phone call, a smile as we pass each other in the back of the church; one holding a squawking baby, one headed out the door for some private instruction for a pew rowdy child.  We catch up over pot lucks, rare coffee dates, birthday parties, Superbowl, Easter, St Patrick's Day, and sometimes in the spring over something burning on my farm.  The opportunity of a stump burning becomes an impromptu party.  We take any reason to come together and the ordinary becomes extra special because we are together.

::her cackle of a laugh
::her sassy style making traditional look chic
::the private struggles she carries and yet maintains joy

We find an easy place to let my guard down.  No one asks, "Are they all yours?...Don't you know what causes that?...I hope this is your last...How do you know they are smart enough to move to the next grade?..."  We can cry when the demands of life weigh us down and no words of scorn and condemnation greet us because we "knew what we were getting into to."  We love our husbands, emphatically.  The daily dance of husband and wife can be a tricky one at times and not once is another option every presented.  Love him is always the answer. 

::her courage to be
::the strength she tries to force at times
::the rare times she lets me help carry the burden because, Lord, she has been my Simon of Cyrene more than I can count
::her smile

I never knew, could have never dreamed, am not sure I appreciate adequately, the friendships God has brought into my life.  I am sure I take way more than I can ever give.  I reveal way too much of myself.  They never bat an eye.  I keep so much private and they never dig for the sake of knowing the skeleton's in my closet.  They love me, they love my husband, they love my children.  Each one of us would be a mother to anyone of the children we share if we were called into that service.  Each one of us would make sure the other remained a vibrant, active part of our child's mind if we were called away from this earthly family.  Our wishes would be carried out, fought for and defended, our husbands comforted if we could no longer do the duty.





So I fell asleep counting my blessings of friendship the other night.  After the party cleaned up, the sticky kitchen floor mopped, the giggling sleepover girls settled, I let the tears of thanksgiving punctuate the silent meditation of gratitude I made for each and every one of them, by name.  That is how you clean up after a party.

Joining Ann as I continue to count my blessings.